Good Parenting
by CeceRoze
Summary: Grunkle Stan has probably the best moneymaking scheme yet! The hopes of the shack reeling in the amount of cash that he suspects slowly begins to make him obsessed and it takes a hilarious toll on his family. But it isn't hilarious for them. For them it is extremely painful and they almost die, so Stan's employees decide that he should get some of his own comeuppance.
1. Chapter 1

The sun sails high above the Oregon, mountain town. No one will ever expect that frigid climate is what is to come. Mabel sticks out another finger to scrape more old, man hair off of her grunkle's favorite arm chair. "Just...one...more..," she mutters to herself as her hand draws nearer to the two think, white hairs.

But a sudden and startling call from Stan causes her to flail and lose the tiny follicles altogether, "HEY KIDS! GET OUT HERE. WE'VE GOT LOTS OF GARDENING TO DO." Mabel's sleeves are- as usual- too long for her arms and she catches them from flying above her head immediately enough to perceive the announcement.

That's odd. We don't have a garden, she thinks to herself just as Dipper enter the room from upstairs. His wrinkled socks shuffle against the questionably dirty carpet, "Hey, Mabel. What's the old man screaming about now?"

"He wants us to build a garden," Mabel says dryly. Mabel observes her brother. He looks as if he has just woken up. He bears a loose, orange t shirt with a sketched symbol of that weird circle inside of a triangle with a line going through the both of them (you know, the artsy kind of thing). His boxers are a solid blue and he brown flies away as far as it can in clumps. He just finishes blinking all of the sleep way and out of his eyes. Dang, he looks healthy, she thinks. She's sure she also looks just as healthy as she feels. "Come on. Let's go see what he wants." She waves Dipper over to follow her out of the house. Unlike her brother, Mabel is mostly dressed. She wears a blue, wool sweater covered with orange polka dots. Other than that, it is the usual purple skirt and white socks. The only things she lacks are her shoes. She quietly slips her feet into Stan's over-sized, pink slippers. She hopes he won't mind her getting them a bit dirty walking outside to answer to _his_ call.

The two walk hesitantly outside. Mabel breathes in the fresh, morning air, not even bothering to wonder where Waddles is. It is too nice a day for anything to go wrong. It seems as though Wendy is just arriving at the Shack, her golf cart pulling up and off to the side. "Huh," she hears Dipper wonder aloud behind her. "Why is Wendy parking so far away? What is she trying to avoid?" Then they notice it. The huge dugout where the stage for phony presentations of wolf boys and albino pigs used to stand. Now there is nothing surrounding that area but unearthed soil. Wendy seems to notice it too as she steps apprehensively out of the awkwardly landed cart and begins to skirt her way around the pit of dirt toward the twins, careful of getting her boots ruined by the mud.

"What is even going on, guys?" Wendy asks with a red eyebrow raised as she approaches the twins. The three look on in profound silence for a moment to take in the sight in the middle of their new lawn of dirt.

Stanford and Soos both heave enormous spades into the dirt and the spits make hard, sandy noises. They then continuously scoop the piles of brown sludge up and out of the dirt and sling them into even bigger piles behind them. When Soos notices the three of them staring, he ecstatically waves to them, "Hey dudes!"

"We think he's building some sort of...plant-growing area," Mabel struggles to find the words.

"I don't get why," Wendy speaks again unenthusiastic. "There are plants all over this town. We live in the middle of floral nowhere! Why go to all the trouble of planting an expensive garden when you have natives in the vicinity to rip from their homes?"

Dipper suddenly puts his hands out and shakes them furiously, his eyes wide open now, "No! Don't you dare give him any ide-"

"Wow Wendy!" Stan calls out and stops shoveling. "That is a great idea! Even greater than this one that Soos had." Stan gives a dead glare right to Soos.

"S-sorry, boss," now it's Soos's turn to wave his hands in front of him. "It was the only thing I could think of at the time. Besides, we've already acted on it."

"Well, you better get to work burying what you acted on, because I'm switching ideas!" with that, the twins' great uncle adamantly throws his shovel into the dark depths of the pit he and Soos made together and with a grunt, hoists himself up and out. He begins walking toward Wendy, Dipper, and Mabel, a cash-winning grin stretched across his face. His usually classy, brown shoes are smudged with mud and crunch with each trudge on the dirt. He motions for the kids to come along with him. "Come on, you two. While Soos cleans up the sloppy mess he created in our yard, you guys are gonna help me find exotic plants."

"What?" Wendy's eye twitches. She just made a horrible mistake. "I was just making a joke. Don't subject them to that!"

"Hey, relax, will you?" Stan waves her off with a crusty, pale, dirt-slathered hand. "It's a nice day. They'll be fine." Mabel notices her brother glance up worriedly and feels a chilling shadow come over her. She looks up at the sky, unnerved, and sees an enormous, grey cloud drifting overhead. It's so big, it is enough to engulf the entire town! Stan, of course, doesn't seem to notice anything.

Dipper gulps, "Actually, Grunkle Stan, I was just about to go back inside. I just remembered I have some stuff to do." He starts back toward the shack.

Stan then rears up and grabs his scrawny arm with his thick hand so that he cannot move any further, "Oh Dipper, we all know you don't have any stuff to do, let's go before it gets any darker."


	2. Chapter 2

"Grunkle Stan, wait! We can't go out there right now!" Dipper vainly begs as his gruncle's surprisingly strong grip around his wrist shows no sign of letting up. His crusty, stubby, white fingers curl like old, bread sticks almost painfully into the doughy flesh of his arm.

"Yeah, we're not dressed yet," Mabel adds. She now also has a firm hand wrapped around her arm and yanking, albeit not quite as roughly as Dipper's. The reason has to be that she goes along more willingly, stepping in sync and almost as fast as Stan whereas her brother digs his heels into the dirt and has to be dragged.

"That doesn't matter. You can change later," he says almost cheerfully but otherwise ignores the kids. "This is more important. Wendy is right. You'll see. It'll save us so much money, we'll be able to afford prime grill! Don't you kids want nice, smoked bacon?"

"Actually, bacon would be pretty nice," Dipper agrees in spite of himself. He looks at Mabel. She looks back at him and gives a sheepish grin behind their gruncle's back. She knows they're thinking about the same thing. But Dipper then starts to shiver as it turns out that the three have reached the tip of the rain clouds.

"Well, we're here kids," Stan lets go of the two of them. Mabel is jolted in her tracks, stopping herself in the process from nearly tripping over a damp root. Dipper is thrust forward and doubles over onto the ground, almost face-planting into a small puddle of mud. The old man puts both pants on his hips. Looking upward, he studies the tops of the tallest conifers as the first droplets come down with a hard splash onto his spectacles. He doesn't seem to notice. "Ah. Is it not such a lovely day? Just take a great, big whiff of the dank, slimy woods and you'd know what I'm talking about."

For once, Dipper decides to humor his gruncle, but one trace of the forest stank into a nostril and a giant wave of nausea threatens to take over. He grabs his pajama shirt and hooks it over his nose, "Grunkle Stan, can we please go back and change now? It's freezing out here." And it is. It's cold in fact that he can't even bring himself to get up off of the ground. Even to get away from the pool of mud right before his face he does nothing. All he really can do is lie in a pathetic, curled-up bundle and shake like one of Soos's maracas.

"Nonsense!" Stan reaffirms after taking a deep breath in and out of his nose. "Like I said, it's perfectly fine out here. Pleasant, even. In fact, I don't think that I see a single thing wrong with it. Not one thing. You guys just want to complain the way you always do."

Mabel glances back behind Stan and notices Dipper's fetal position on the ground. She knows she has to do something soon. If not then the three of them will surely succumb to hypothermia sooner or later. Desperately, she looks around for a sign of civilization. She turns her head to search behind her and finds that the start of the woods is not so far away as she thought from the Mystery Shack. From here, the lighthouse tower is still prominent above most of the trees. It's a good thing Stan dug that giant hole this morning. Sure, it is what started this whole ordeal, but if Wendy hadn't pitched her terrible idea to Stan, then they'd probably have spent the rest of the day throwing out their backs gardening. Also, if they do get lost not in the woods, the pit can be a reference point. Squinting her eyes, Mabel notices that Soos is still there, digging and patting out the enormous pit and staying true to Stan's orders no matter what. Mabel tries her best to get his attention, jumping up and down as high as she can. She waves over-sized sleeve through the air as though it were a flag. While doing this, she contemplates the best actions to take in order to get her coworker to notice. Maybe I can throw something at him, she thinks to herself but then realizes that she just doesn't have the arm for any object to reach a noticeable distance from Soos. Finally to her glee, he looks up and seems to finally see her.

"Hey, look! It's Mabel," Soos says, pointing as if it were some big spectacle.

Wendy looks up from where she now sits on the porch. She doesn't really feel like doing anything. The tourists are staying in today on account of the bipolar weather so there is no point in manning the register. Mr. Pines immediately left after she had made that stupid suggestion to him without giving her any orders for the day. Still, it wasn't very clever of her to give him that idea in the first place. She should have known he'd pull something like this. She notices that where Soos points, an orange highlight streaks itself across the horizon. Wait a minute. Could that be? A colorful, flag-like beacon seems to be flying five feet in the air. This can only mean one thing. "Soos, I think Mabel is trying to tell you something," Wendy points out.

Soos squints and realizes that she's right. The way their little friend waves her giant sleeve around like a flag. Is she...trying to sign to him? This has to be important! What does she want? Soos signs back, asking her just that. The sleeve again wags around, this time more desperately. Fresh sets of clothes for her and her brother. Soos gives her a thumbs up before running into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

They Pines trio stands there for just a few more moments... Then Stan speaks, "Well, I guess we better get on with the trek! We're wasting time just standing out here."

Mabel's heart quickens. They can't leave yet! It is too soon. She reaches out, "Grunkle Stan, wait a minute. I think we should wait just a little bit longer. Just to make sure the shack doesn't explode or anything."

Her gruncle looks her in the eye, "Wow, for a second there, you were starting to sound like your pansy brother! Speaking of which, would you get him off his back and onto his feet? Seriously it looks like he's dying over there."

Mabel growls in frustration, "That's the point!" But she knows Stan will continue to ignore her. She walks across the way, careful of loose roots and barbs that are capable of snagging onto one of her wool socks. She hoists her body up and swings her legs onto the smooth stone where Dipper lies in a curled ball next to a small, mud puddle. With one last indignant huff, she slips her arms underneath her brother's and scoops him up and off the ground as best she can. "Come on, Dipper. It's time we get going."

Stan keeps his hand on his hips and stares at his niece and nephew proudly, "There we go. That's what I like to see. You've got your great uncle's blood running through your veins, both of you. You two are from the Pines family, and this family will tough it out no matter what is thrown our way!" He turns back to the forest and his smug smirk slowly morphs into a full blown grin. He takes his first step into the forest, Mabel and Dipper following close and anxiously behind.

But a voice behind them suddenly stops them all in their tracks, "Pines family, WAIT!" The Pines family does indeed wait and turns their heads to notice Soos running as if he were in the last hundred meters of a footrace. He starts off far away, but picks up speed and eventually draws nearer and nearer until finally he is within close range and more of his details are able to be made out. The first thing the bewildered trio makes out is that Soos is actually a lot more in the position of a football player running for the touchdown. His right hand is stretched out in front of him in the form of the stop symbol (he signals for the Pines to stop what they are doing). Under his left arm is what looks like a colorful bundle of joy. It couldn't possibly be an actually football. It's rounder than that. Maybe a kickball?

"Seriously?" Stan snaps impatiently. "Jesus, what is it now?"

"I came at your request," Soos gasps between breaths, pointing at Mabel. He holds forward the bundle that actually turns out to be one of her favorite sweaters.

Mabel smack her hands to her face and beams with joy, "Oh my gosh! Soos! You did it! You actually did what I asked!"

At the sight of warmth and comfort in his friend's hand, Dipper's eyes brighten almost immediately, "Doesn't he always? Thank you, Soos. A change of clothes is exactly what we needed." The twins come forward to claim their belongings.

Stan taps his foot while Soos stands beside him, admiring the happiness he has brought to these children. Stan doesn't even bother to turn when he glares at him, "Soos, don't you have some patching up to do back at the shack?"

"Uh, right, Mr. Pines," Soos replies awkwardly. "I'll get right on that." With that, he walks back in the direction of the Mystery Shack.

Once Soos is gone, Stan gives out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "And I thought he would never leave. Well kids, you might as well throws those away. They'll be too much of a burden to carry along with you. And I have no idea where the heck you would even have time to change-" He turns around and sees his kids have already changed stand grinning brightly up at him, their old and already sweaty clothes in a tattered pile on the ground beside them. There is nothing Stan can say for a few moments after that. Mabel's new sweater is sort of a spindrift and has a purple heart in the center. Dipper now wears a pair of brown shorts and some teal sneakers. "Well, I guess Soos was useful for once. But never mind that. Let's get going. We've wasted enough time here already." He then proceeds to enter the creepy forest. With one last nervous exchange with one another, the twins follow somewhat close behind.

* * *

Soos arrives back at the shack. Wendy hasn't budged. She still sits cross-legged in Stan's rocking chair with her eyes glued to her microscopic, phone screen, most likely texting one of her friends about how boring and stupid her boss's scheme was today. Soos wonders fervently if she will fail to mention that it was her suggestion that gave him that boring and stupid plan in the first place. Well if Wendy won't do anything, than he certainly will. He marches into the house and calls for Waddles. After a few moments, the fat, pink creature comes snuffling out of the shadows of the living room. "Waddles, I have an important mission for you," he says to the pig as it gazes up at him curiously. "The boss has taken those little dudes out into the forest. They might get lost and it's getting cold out there, but we're gonna follow them." He walks back out the door with Waddles coming after him. "Remember what time you have to open shack, Wendy." Wendy continues scrolling through her phone.


	4. Chapter 4

They walked through the woods for only five minutes when the ground grows even darker and Mabel's foot hits a shaky, hissing creature. The thing coils around her leg before quickly slithering off into the depths. Hissing herself, the brunette yanks her foot away from the spot it was in. Normally, a girl like Mabel would not be phased simply by uncertain critters coming into contact with her, but there's something about the haze of this place that seems off key. Nonetheless, she there is always something that reverts her back into her cheerful quirks if only for a little while. The sound of metal hitting metal nearly strikes literally straight through one ear and out the other. Beside her, she notices her brother jump slightly. Whipping her head around toward the source of the noise leads of their dear old gruncle who suddenly possesses a shovel. He digs it into the earth another time. The shovel makes a short-but-satisfying sound as it glides through the soil before again hitting a hard and possibly hollow, solid object. Stan then places his foot on the back of the blade and it clangs another time. Then he lowers the angel of the blade and attempts to scoop the thing out.

When that doesn't prove to work, he then brings up his free hand and calls over Dipper, "Hey, Dipper, I need you over here." Mabel watches as Dipper walks over, fidgeting nervously. She can't help but actually feel a jolt of excitement run down her body. This new update is almost enough to lift the damper on the mood of this whole trek. Stan hands the shovel over to Dipper who takes it hesitantly. "What you're gonna do is plunge the spade in as deep as you can until you can hit something when you finally turn it upwards. That way, you can just lift it out of the ground without having to do any hard digging!"

Dipper's noodle arms struggle even to keep a good hold on the wooden stem of the shovel, "But Grunkle Stan, wouldn't it be easier to just dig until you find underneath?"

"Are you kidding?" Stan's voice raises enough to echo off the various trees and mist surrounding them. He throws his arms above his head, almost exasperated. "That would take forever! Do you want to spend forever in these woods?"

"Yeah, Dipper!" Mabel chimes in. "We have to hurry up and move on. There are other things out here to see and we won't be able to see them all if you take forever over here."

Stan comes closer to his great-nephew, "Listen, kid. I'll make you a deal. You get this thing out of the ground my way, and I promise we'll go back home today." Dipper looks down at where the blade meets the dirt, still hesitating. Then he sighs and begins to dig, but only by shoving the blade deeper and deeper into the ground. He lets out a few pathetic sounding grunts as he attempts to rework the shovel through its handle out of all its stuck positions. Mabel makes a point to sit down on a nearby rock looking bored. This is obviously going to be a while. Her gruncle looks over to notice that her enthusiasm has faded away again. "I also have a job for you too, Mabel." At that she brightens up a little.

She stands up again gleefully and brushes off her skirt, "Okay! What is it, Grunkle Stan?"

Stan walks over to her, "You are going to venture off into the woods and look for the most exotic looking flora you can find. Got it?"

Mabel gives him a thumbs up, "Sure. But where exactly do you want me to go?"

Stan almost face palms, "Don't you start asking questions like your brother. Look here, it's real simple. All you have to do is start heading that way." He points off in some random direction through the trees. "Just keep going as far as you can, ripping the roots out of every plant you find. Once you think you've got enough variety, head back here. Here. Use this to collect them." He dispenses an orange, plant pot from the inside of his coat and places it in her hands. Even empty the thing feels somewhat dense. Mabel thinks it a bit impractical that Stan could fit the whole thing in his tiny, coat pocket. Then another thought strikes her. The previous thought is such an odd thought to think. She's never worried about such impracticalities before. Maybe Stan is right. Maybe she is becoming more like her brother.

Nonetheless, she is beyond stoked to go on the quest that her gruncle sends her. She gives him a thumbs up before running off out of sight and into the wilderness, "Alright, then, Grunkle Stan. I won't let you down." With a grin on her face, she dashes off deeper into the forest.

Stan watches her go proudly, "That's it. That is the girl I want to see right there." He glances back at his great-nephew struggling to push the shovel into the soil just a little further. He stops for a moment and wipes the sweat away from his forehead, panting heavily. Stan turns his attention back to him, "Hey! Dipster, hurry it up, will you? I told you I don't have all day and so we can't go back home at the end of the day if we aren't done here. So get it that damned box of truffles up and onto solid ground already."

Dipper stumbles backward in exhaustion and falls into a sitting position, "What will you do with a box of truffles?"

"It's bait for this!" a triumphant voice comes right out of nowhere. The Pines look over to see Soos and Waddles right before a pair of sharp fangs clamps down on Dipper's elbow.


	5. Chapter 5

A catchy and upbeat tune swings its way through Mabel's head as she prances deeper through the forest. She is fairly sure she's heard it before...somewhere. She doesn't bother trying to figure out this mystery, nor does she pay any attention to where she is headed. She continues to skip her merry way, not noticing that the vines hanging from the trees become a new shade of green and the forest gets progressively more and more jungle-esque overall. She just keeps on daydreaming.

But her daydreams are bitterly interrupted when her ankle does a sudden and ungraceful hop under a vine. This pulls her out of the air and she lands hard with a grunt on the rough, dusty ground. She opens her eyes which closed shut when she hit the ground to finally get a good look at what lies around her. She looks from right to left. Though dust lines the ground, it becomes increasingly damp and muddy as the supposed trail Mabel makes for herself goes on. A vague, salty smell comes to her as well that reminds her a bit of water. But not the rushing waves of the ocean at the beach. This salt has a stinkier smell, almost as if rotting flesh was dropped off in a pool of animal feces daily. The worst part is, there is nothing to block out the smell. Glancing upward, she can spot no bit of sky. Only the faintest light flitters down through the leaves. Other than that, the tops of the tall trees one-hundred-fifty feet above her block out the rest of the world and keeping the horrid smell in.

Mabel hoists herself up and off of the ground. Stan told her to gather whatever strange plant comes into her potential possession. But looking around her, every individual plant seems strange. It feels almost as if she stepped into another world, one where every species of flora she has never heard of gathers. Not everything is the bizarre shade of lime green that the moss and trees are. In fact, it is the multicolored chlorophyll that catches the twelve-year-old's attention from the get is almost a rainbow of shades in each vein as a leaf floats down in front of her. She brushes herself off and begins to take a step forward. That is when her suspicions of this place are affirmed. A curly vine pops out suddenly in front of the girl in the neon color of yellowish green. Normally Mabel would be thrilled to see such a vibrant color, especially on something that does not ordinarily come in said color. She always has wanted a sweater in any neon shade. But now it comes as a startling appall only serves to almost sprain her ankle as she madly smacks it out of the way and runs down an unexpected bump of mud in the road. She never thought before that anything could stain the blackness of her shoes. But they now appear to be completely engulfed in mud. If she lets herself sink any further, the mud will reach her socks and she may not be able to escape.

Vainly, she pulls at her right leg to loosen it up. The mud crawls slowly up her ankle. A rose-colored fruit hangs down off right above her head and she grapples for it. Eventually her hands clasp the thorny branch from which it grows, dark leaves swimming in her blood. But the branch coils up and brings her with it. She feels a liberating rush of air as her feet pop back out of the ground. She swings, a sheering thrill pulsing through her limbs as the vine carries her over the enormous, mud puddle. She smiles despite the pain of the thorns constantly poking into the bare flesh of her hands. This in fact gives her the greatest idea and she lets go of the thorny branch with her right hand, only to shear off the leaves with her left. She opens the container that Stan gave her and throws the leaves from her bleeding palm into it with all of her might. She can't be sure exactly how many of them got into the bag and how many just missed and drift to the ground. Then she moves on to the flower. Using both hands, she grabs hold of the bright petals and tugs at the bulb. A few petals break off. Grunkle Stan won't like that. This thing is extremely stubborn. She clasps her hand again around the base, feeling the sharp pricks of the early thorns where the stem meets the flower. Eventually the bulb detaches itself from the stem and Mabel brings it to her face and holds it in front of her in her hands, grinning triumphantly at it.

But something is not right. She no longer holds onto the vine. In a sudden motion that sends her innards flipping in circles, her hair flies straight upward and she can feel a painful momentum pulling at the tips of her fingers and toes. The thorny vine zips high up in the air and out of her reach, whipping through the air and getting stuck to various tree branches. In a panic, she looks straight down and is met with the ground rushing up toward her again. Before she can do anything more than shut her eyes again, she does not hit anything hard or even remotely muddy. Instead of ground, she falls straight into...water? She opens her eyes. No. Not water. What's this, some kind of lake? She fell into the swamp finally, that is what happened. The thick, green, goop sucks her body into its depths. The smell of flies and something rotting now surrounds her like month-old fruit. She swims in the stank as much as through the lagoon and out dripping with piss water. Luckily, she still has the plant and cannot wait to show Grunkle Stan.


	6. Chapter 6

"Grunkle Stan, how long are we gonna keep hiking on like this without taking any breaks?" Dipper barely wheezes exhaustedly from his stance a few meters from the old man.

He barely has time to register another root sticking thirteen inches above the ground up to his knee before his gruncle replies, "We'll keep going until we run out of room, Dip. These hundreds of thinly lined sandwich bags won't fill themselves." He glances back at his great-nephew who stumbles over the root at first. He quickly is able to regain his footing. "Why are you so impatient to stop, anyway? Don't you know we can't go home until we've made sure we scouted the entire forest and have part from every plant?"

Between breaths, he is able to manage, "M-Mabel hasn't come back yet. Aren't you getting worried? She's been gone for over twenty minutes now. We should wait as close as we can to where we saw her last so that when it will be easier for her to find us and not get lost. Also, I don't know how much longer I really will be able to go at this point. After that scorpion-snake thing bit my arm I've been feeling like I'm going a bit slow..." He looks down and watches his feet drag. There is something quite off-putting about them. He doesn't seem to have two feet anymore. Instead, his black sneakers seem to multiply until he is sure he sees near five of each shoe, moving simultaneously. But suddenly they don't move the correct way and are far behind him. He trips for the umpteenth time and Stan finally stops walking. He turns around again to see Dipper who does not even bother to pick himself up until after a few seconds. Stanley raises an eyebrow. Maybe the kid's right and they should stop.

He turns around hastily and finds a fallen log to sit on, "Alright, kid. You swayed me, but only because your whining is finally getting on my nerves." He helps Dipper back onto his feet and gently guides him to the log. They both sit down for about a minute. After that minute passes, Stan decides that the break is over and they should probably get moving again. Mabel will find them when she's ready. He is about to stand up and tell Dipper just that when a familiar voice sounds faintly in the distance. It's weak at first. But as it goes on, it stays pretty weak. The only indication that the owner of the voice is getting any closer is the clarity of it.

Finally, what comes louder than her faint, cough-ridden voice is the dragging sound that Mabel makes as she uses her arms to pull her body along the wet swamp grass. She wails out silently again, "Grunkle Stan! I...I brought y- ffff..." Her head falls face-down into the mud. But as her head goes down, an arm goes up and that is when Stan and Dipper notice that the girl clutches something so tightly that her entire hand is white as a sheet. The only thing not white on her hands are her swollen, rose-colored veins. But wait a minute. As her brother and gruncle look closer, they begin to realize that those are indeed not veins. They are in fact streams of dried blood (though most of it is not so dried) running down her hand.

"Oh my god! Mabel!" Dipper watches from the edge of the log as Stan hurries over to his sister and kneels down next to her. "You filled up the whole bag and then some! Great job, Mabel! You definitely exceeded my expectations for today." He gives her a nice pat on the back to further dirty her once favorite sweater. This plants the whole front of her body deeper and deeper into the mud until Dipper is sure that he can see her sinking slowly in the ground. He's also sure that from all this unbelievable turmoil and his great-uncle's ignorance, he is about to roll off of this log and into the mud with Mabel. Stan reaches down and takes the swollen sandwich bag, heavy with herbs and slips it in his pocket with the rest. He probably has at least ninety more bags clipped to the fabric inside of that coat of his. He also takes the neon rosebud sticking out of her bloodied hand with an indelicate pinch of his two stubby fingers. He grips the bulb so hard that at least one of its vibrant petals ribs, ruining the entire scene. He continues to pull the plant by its head and reopens Mabel's hand wound by sliding the thorny stem across her tight palm once again. The end of the stem pops out of her balled up fist along with a splurt of fresh blood. Dipper rolls down the hill, collecting mud, leaves, and rocks in his hair until he joins his sister in the undignified mud puddle. Stan finally uncurls his knees and stands over them both, the crushed and wilting rosebud casting a looming shadow that stretches ominously across the dirt.

"Come on, kids. Get up," the words are unnervingly chilling and stoic but Dipper and Mabel are too exhausted to acknowledge this strangeness. All the two can do at the moment is lie on the ground and hope vainly to catch their breath. "We don't have all day and the sun is going down. If we don't find everything that we need then we'll have to spend the night out here."

Dipper and Mabel can do nothing but groan at that as they know they will barely be able to get on their feet by morning. After a while, Dipper musters up the energy to touch Mabel's hand and ask how she is holding up but she's too exhausted to answer.


	7. Chapter 7

"Well, kids, we'd better get going soon," Grunkle Stan puts his hands on the hips of his spiffy, black suit and gazes up at the red sky. "The sun is starting to set. Kids?" He looks around when he receives no answer but only finds the dense forest surrounding him. As the evening grows darker, the night animals begin to creep out onto the prowl. Stan thinks he spots the striped tail of a raccoon cross his path briefly. Overhead, large talons with the sharpest and shiniest claws take off flapping from a branch and into the night air. The branch breaks off and falls into the grass and bushes somewhere nearby and the splintery debris rains down on the old man's head. Suddenly, a disturbing snuffling sound and hot breath on the back of his neck is felt close by...come to think of it, it is too close by for comfort. Stan spins around really quickly in a whirl, ready to bust out his trusty brass knuckles if need be. But the beast evades him. He hears its thick snort somewhere between the trees, heavy with phlegm. This is not good. The creature sits right on top of him. There's nothing he can do to get rid of it while it is hot on his trail to get rid of him. And if that's the case, then the twins are going to have to wait. The only thing that the old man can think to do now is run. So that's exactly what he does as he takes off down the narrow pathway now completely invisible as the high pine needles cover any trace of filtering moonlight. Leaves and small twigs from the bushes at his legs growing increasingly higher up to his arms scratch at his face. The branches from the trees whip him in the face as he lifts his legs higher and goes faster and faster and faster. But nothing moves him further away from the hot breath beating down his neck until he feels as if he is in a sauna. When suddenly it stops.

In that moment, a rush of bitter and cold air swarms the back of his neck and Stan tenses up completely. Where the hell did that thing go? There is now nothing but darkness with a few stars peeking out between the treetops. One minute, the wretched beast had him. Then, in a flash, it is nowhere to be found. But suddenly it appears right in front of him! The man lets out a terrified scream in the horrific, pink, unblinking eyes of Waddles. He takes a few frantic steps back before he himself can trip over a root. He takes a moment to catch his breath before speaking again, "Soos, what in the world are you still doing out here? I thought I sent you out to sniff out all of the truffles I hid hours ago."

"Yes, and I did do all of those things," Soos replies, putting Waddles down on the ground from where he held him in Stan's face. "I have all of the truffles right here. See?" He reaches into his shorts pocket and holds out all five of the sticky, rock-like objects flat on his palm. Stan lifts up his glasses to get a better look at what is in the young man's hand, though that only skews the image even moreso. Nonetheless, the smell of the musty things is undoubtedly what he buried at least a year ago. He slips his glasses back on. Leaning back upright again, he observes Waddles' now ripped and dirty, purple leash and harness. How long have they been out? It's already pitch black. His thoughts are interrupted when the young man speaks again. "Mr. Pines, uh, not to pry or anything, but where are the kids? Did you send them back home? Did they make it back okay?"

"I don't know where they went, actually," Stan rubs the back of his head. He supposes he should probably be worried at this point. But the twins were lagging all morning and just got worse as time went on. It got to the point that it seemed as if they didn't want to spend time with their gruncle like they always used to. But maybe, just maybe it's something else, something that's wrong. He suddenly hears a faint cough far off in the distance and Waddles begins to sniff the ground. Soos looks around Stan while the old man himself whips around to see Dipper's blue hat with the pine tree sticking out of the bushes.

"Kid, what are you doing? Come out of there! And bring your sister too," Stan raises his voice so that his great-nephew can hear. His head pops out, rustling the leaves as he lifts it and some even stick in his unkempt hair. Stan hadn't noticed it before but now that Soos shines a his flashlight directly as his face, he sees just how sick the boy looks. His face is incredibly pale with his regular bags enhanced to give off the appearance of deep, purple bruises. Stan raises an eyebrow. "Uh, kid, what happened after you disappeared? Where have you been? I expected for you two to keep up with me. So far, Mabel has only brought me one useful thing. You have done nothing for me but complain. So tell me. What's the matter?" The whole time that Stan speaks, Soos eyes him somewhat annoyed.

Dipper stares at him, unmoving, with a confused expression planted on his face the whole time, "I don't know, Grunkle Stan. I just don't feel well today. I didn't want to come on this brutal expedition in the first place. I guess I should have told you from the beginning. I-I tried but-"

"What is that it? Dipper, come down here," Stan smiles, relieved before waving him down.


	8. Chapter 8

"Dipper, what's gotten into you?" Stan calls out loudly through the echoing trees so that his great-nephew can hear him. "You're acting weird. I mean weirder than usual. Also, where's your sister? I can see her anywhere." The old man stretches his neck to look past Dipper to see if Mabel is anywhere behind him.

"Right here," a faint voice croaks and the girl nearly heaves herself from out of her place inside the bush next to Dipper. She is not as pale as him nor does she share the heavy bags that hang exhausted from his sick eyes. Her skin however does emit a rather unworldly glow in the dark not unlike that of phosphorus. It looks...green, Stan thinks to himself as he squints his eyes. But a sickly and wet green as if she lost some flesh from her arms and couldn't get proper treatment so her body was infected until it rotted. Stan wonders if any of this has at all a thing to do with his idea to go on this excursion in the first place. But he ends up shoving that thought aside. At the moment there are more important things to worry about. Like how they should all stop doddling around and gather everything up so they can hurry home to count their earnings.

He turns around back to face Soos and Waddles, "Soos!"

Soos snaps out of his daze, "Uhhh... Yes, Mr. Pines?" He was staring at the twins for a while with a worried expression on his face. Stan has no idea why. They're fine! They're just being whiny. Why is everyone making a big deal out of it?

"Did you find all the truffles?" he continues, attempting to steer his attention from his niece and nephew still suffering in the bush.

"Yes, Mr. Pines," he answers somewhat more confidently. He then gently places Waddles down in the soft grass. Searching around in his pocket, his hand brushes that cold, hard, and jagged surfaces of the small, rock-like objects that Stan sent him to go find earlier. He hears the small noise of them softly clinking together as he brings them out and holds them out on his open palm to present to the old man.

Stan's eyes shine as he beholds his long lost treasures finally returning to him, "Yes. Thank you, Soos. You've done a good job today. You should feel very proud of yourself. I am very lucky to have employed a loyal, hardworking, young man." Soos grins, beaming with tears beginning to leak from his eyes.

A shuddering rustle is heard all of a sudden from clear across the void of bushes and trees. Stan, Soos, and Waddles all turn their heads to look back at the twins still hiding out pathetically in the far bush. With the skin on his arms now flushed to a paper-white point, Dipper's baggy eyes show a stark contrast. With yet another sickening crunch of the twigs below his dirty shoes, he melodramatically jolts forward, unsteady with his bruised eyes now shut tight. He then falls down the small hill in front of him and Mabel and onto the soil beneath it. Mabel then lets out a distressed noise. On a normal occasion if her brother were in trouble, she would have just yelled his name and be done with it. What comes out of her mouth now can only be described as a gargling wail. Stan wonders where in the world she managed to learn how to release such an ungodly sound. She urgently struggles to break free of the confines of the thorny branches surrounding her body but it is hard for her. Eventually, she is able to snap the particularly stubborn vine holding her back and scrambles down the hill to her brother. Fresh new tears shine in her eyes. She runs, blubbering wildly with twigs snapping loudly beneath her rubber boots as she goes. Finally when she reaches him, she falls to her knees. Using a scarred and bloody hand to tentatively shake Dipper and beg for him to get up so that they can go on, Stan can't help but be grossed out by the disgusting snot that continuously drip from her nose. Soos shudders loudly, "What happened to you guys?" Frantically he rushes over to the twins at an alarming pace with Waddles almost nipping at his heels.

"What is it? What's going on with you guys?" Stan isn't all that far behind himself. He is genuinely curious as to what everyone is making such a big deal about out in these woods. Soos and Waddles make it to the kids at the end of the clearing where Mabel weakly attempts to help Dipper to his feet. But he can only seem to be able to crawl onto his knees.

"D-dipper?" Mabel's quivering voice utters worriedly. Soos kneels down gently near the two children with Waddles at his side and puts a concerned hand on Dipper's back. It takes a while before the boy starts to move. In that time, Mabel realizes that she is shivering almost uncontrollably. It's strange. She never noticed it before. How long has she been shaking like this? She suddenly notices how numb she also feels both toward her sense of touch but also to movement and temperature. She takes a brief moment to look away from her brother while Soos tends to him to focus on her hands. She gawks at them for a few seconds, taking in the flesh lining along her arms. Her skin is a complete contrast to her brother's. There is absolutely no hint of human flesh anywhere that is shows skin, just a zombie-like green. The places where she hit herself while on Stan's quest have now formed deep, purple bruises. What if taking her gruncle's advice wasn't such a great idea after all?


	9. Chapter 9

The slowly rotating fingers as Mabel opens and closes her palm over and over again begin to lull her into a dizzying coma. But a gagging sound beside her snaps her out of it. She quickly puts down her hand and leans on it to support the rest of her weakened body (albeit tenderly). She looks to her side to see her brother retching an unholy red fluid to mix with the beaten down dirt. She notices Soos's thick arms gently patting him on the back. He carries a worried expression. Mabel supposes she should also be worried. There is no doubt they're absolutely lost in the woods. Mabel then glances afar. There is one person in the group that isn't worried at all. Mabel grits her teeth as the oblivious old man comes into view. He'll be the first one to starve if he doesn't get torn apart by the gnomes first. A desperate idea flashes through her head at this time. She has to act fast or they'll all be meat left for the dire wolves. She snaps into action, "Hey, Soos. Over here. Can you talk to me for a sec?" Soos gives her a weird look at first and she realizes that her voice is thick and raspy.

"What is it, Mabel?" Soos scoots over to her side, his voice shaky.

"Bring...Waddles...here..," the girl barely manages. She can feel her eyelids failing on her. She needs to get meat in her system stat.

Small, brown hooves trot through the mud and stop attentively in front of Mabel's side-turned face. "He's here, Mabel," Soos's voice sounds from above. A sniffle then makes itself apparent as well. Is he...crying?

Or maybe that was just the pig. Waddles snorts again. A smile spreads across the little girl's face, "Waddles..." Then she becomes serious and addresses the young man again. "Soos, I need you to do something for me."

Soos bends down to meet her mud-caked face, his eyes brimming with tears, "Yes, what is it, Mabel? Please just tell me what you want. I'll do anything you tell me to do!"

"Soos..," she starts to breathe heavily. "Come closer. I need- I need you to take Waddles for me..." Her eyes start to slowly close on her.

"Yes," Soos wills for her to go on.

"...and I need you to kill him," with seemingly her final words drifting out and her voice dying, her eyes close completely and she grows very still.

"WHAT! Mabel, wait! You're not thinking straight! You don't really want me to murder your best friend, do you?" Soos grabs Mabel's shoulders and shakes her, trying to get out another response. But the girl's head just lolls to the side and he plops her body back onto the soft grass. He studies her. Her skin no longer looks the way that human skin should. Instead it looks like dirt. Jade-colored moss has overtaken what used to be rosy cheeks and she almost seems half plant. The blood on her hand has long run dry. In its place, a long, red stain stretches from her palm and up her arm to her elbow. Soos can barely catch the faint rise and fall of her chest. He looks at Waddles. The pig once looked concerned for his owner's well-being but now holds nothing but a blank expression. It's almost as if without Mabel he is nothing. Soos then takes a moment to glance again at Dipper a little ways away. He doesn't seem conscious at the moment either. To contrast his sister, his skin is almost deathly pale. A greenish liquid oozes from his mouth and plasters itself all over his face. It also runs down to make a mess on his once clean shirt. Soos marvels at the enormous pile of vomit. It looks like he threw up everything down to the last drop of bile! He'll starve if something isn't done. Soos's eyes travel back to the pig. Then they close. He knows what he has to do. "Okay. I'll do it." He takes a deep breath.

In the longest time since she first entered the forest, Mabel actually manages a weak smile, "Thank you, Soos."

Soos takes out his carving knife from his back holster. Then he takes Waddles's snout with a firm grip to steady him. Holding the knife at the ready, his eyes fill with tears again, "I'm sorry, Waddles." And with that, he shoves the knife deep into the pig's skull. Immediately he goes still and limp. He droops into Soos's hand, still on his nose, completely lifeless. Soos lets the tears fall freely. He drops the corpse and it falls down next to Mabel but not before sending a splurt of blood across his hiking shirt. The knife unearths itself from the pig's head, covered in even more blood and brain goop. Soos places it back into its sheath. He wipes a tear away from his face and begins to search around for firewood.

He hears trudging in the distance. Looking up, he sees the old man approach him. He has a mortified expression on his face when he reaches them and sees what has taken place, "Soos, what happened to Waddles?" He backs up. "Oh no. Don't tell me. YOU killed him? Soos, how could you? You know how much Mabel loved that swine!"

Soos begins to sob, "I know, but I had to! We don't have anymore food, Mr. Pines. Waddles ate all of the truffles!"

Stan strokes his chin thoughtfully, "Hm. Then I suppose we do have a problem. Soos, help me look for firewood!"

"Already on it, boss," Soos replies. The two of them begin to scrounge around the forest for potential wood to burn, leaving the dead pig and dying children there to meet whatever fate comes to them first.


End file.
